Plane. Again!

Well, just shy of 20 months, Oscar's already cursing like a sailor. Last week, he was climbing the furniture and attempting a particularly precarious straddle or something when I heard him going: "Shit. Shit. Shit." Exactly like I do when I stub a toe or I'm up on a rickety ladder trying to change an obstinate lightbulb.

"Jen," I said, "Our son is cussing up a blue streak."

"No he's not. He's just saying 'Sit.'"

And just like that, Oscar goes "Sit" and sits down, looking angelic and very pleased with himself.

Five minutes later, he's in the high chair, eating dinner, and he drops his spoon, only instead of going "Uh-oh," he says "Shit. Shit. Shit." In context and everything.

A couple days later, Jen was picking him up at daycare and he dropped something. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Much to her relief, the teacher goes "Oh, look, Oscar's saying 'Sit.' Isn't that adorable?" Whew. Close one.



A few days ago, Aunt Karen was reading him a book. He pointed to a yellow flower and said "Yellow flower," which was the first time we know of that he's put two concepts together like that without prompting. This morning, he observed: "Red sock." And it was.

Also, yesterday, for the first time, he alerted me to the fact that he needed changing. "Poopy," he said, and grabbed his crotch. And poopy he was. Didn't stop him from throwing the standard hissy-fit when I went to change him, though. At least he's getting better about having his nose wiped.



His new favorite word is "Again!" Throw him up in the air. "Again!" Tickle him until he pukes. "Again!" Read him Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late for the fourth time in a row. "Again!"

So yesterday, he was sitting in Jen's lap by the window, and he looked out and pointed at a passing airplane and said: "Plane!" "Yes, plane." He really likes pointing out planes. Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in a loop of the intro to Fantasy Island.

And then, because, as Jen notes, parents are omnipotent, he said: "Again!"